Even as he awaited his own execution, holed up in Darwin's Fannie Bay Gaol near the turn of the 20th century, Charlie Flannigan didn't lose his sense of humour.
With no companions, visitors or time outdoors allowed, Flannigan whiled away his time drawing dozens of illustrations, depicting his loves and past lives as a champion jockey and skilled drover.
The exterior of his prison can be seen in one drawing, signed 'Longfellow waves ta-ta'.
"He's a jockey, so ... he'd be a short, stout bloke," said Don Nawurlany Christophersen, a researcher at the Northern Territory Library and Archives.
"But now he's calling himself Longfellow and waving 'goodbye' ... Longfellow means a man who's being stretched on the gallows.
"It's a morbid sense of humour that he's sent us."
On July 15 1893, not long after that illustration was drawn, Flannigan waved 'ta-ta', becoming the first person executed in the Northern Territory.
It marked the end of a life of highs and lows, of great triumphs and one terrible mistake. A new exhibition of Flannigan's drawings at the South Australian Museum casts a light on that life, and the injustice that ended it.
Christophersen, whose family come from Kakadu in north-eastern Arnhem Land, curated the exhibition, titled 'A Little Bit of Justice'.
"It's what we give him today, because he never got none way back then 130 years ago," Christophersen told NITV.
Riding high
Flannigan's lifelong love of horses is evident in the many drawings he did featuring the animals. Courtesy South Australian Museum.
He was known as a master stockman, on one occasion helping to move 20,000 head of cattle from Richmond Downs in Queensland to the Northern Territory.
He was also a noted jockey, and was asked to race in the 1887 Palmerston Cup.
"He had four rides on two horses ... and he had three wins," said Christophersen.
"He ended up winning the Cup that year."
His prize winnings and the money he earned through the hard labour of being a drover gave Flannigan more autonomy than most First Nations people of the time.
"There were very few Aboriginal people who were riding around Australia with their own rifle, their own horses and their own working gear, saddles and so forth," said Christophersen.
They were memories that no doubt came as a comfort to Flannigan as he awaited execution for murder.
A story of bullying
Flannigan's expert skills saw him hired for two weeks work in 1887 by Samuel Croker, a man he knew through cattle droving.
Building a stockyard in the days, at night the pair would play cards, but their relationship was not easy.
"He always expected to be treated as an equal. From what I've been able to uncover, it's a story of bullying ... and Charlie couldn't take it.
Tensions boiled over, and one night the men's game turned sour.
"Charlie said 'Let's go outside and we'll sort it out, because you've been on my back since I've been here'."
Croker went for his gun, but Flannigan beat him to it. He put two bullets in Croker with a high-calibre rifle.
Flannigan helped bury the man he had killed before going on the lam.
"Within a week or so he starts to get the guilt and remorse, and he hands himself over to the police at Halls Creek."
Charlie Flannigan's depiction of his own arrest. He turned himself in to police after spending a week on the run. Courtesy South Australian Museum.
Art as an escape
Conditions in Flannigan's Darwin prison were poor. With only two wardens to supervise 40 men, he and the others on death row were never let out of their cells.
To keep him occupied, the jailers gave Flannigan pencil and paper. He took to the pursuit with the passion and skill he had shown in many areas of his life, and the 82 drawings he eventually created give fascinating and bittersweet insights into the man.
"They'll tell you about that person and his love of Country, of the scenery and his love of architecture, from the outback cattle stations to Darwin," said Christophersen.
"There's many, many drawings of horses ... his love of horses is profound in his drawings. And he does drawings of his arrest and drawings of the courthouse in Darwin.
"He draws all the stuff that's around him ... It was escapism, because he was sitting in a cell for ten months."
Lethal injustice
Flannigan was sentenced to death for the murder of Samuel Croker, creating his drawings and offering no defence of his actions, but rather accepting his fate.
He spent his time on death row with nine other men who were also destined for the gallows. Public outcry grew over the number, and so authorities let some of the prisoners off the hook, sentencing them instead to hard labour.
Others were given pardons on the occasion of Queen Victoria's jubilee. In the end, only two were executed: Flannigan, and another Aboriginal man, Wandi Wandi.
"There was no rhyme or reason ... but it was about sending a message. It was about vengeance for the death of Sam Croker."
Taking another look
Don Christophersen at Fannie Bay Gaol, where Charlie Flannigan was incarcerated. He says Flannigan's drawings give a more nuanced insight into a man condemned. Credit:
"He was always painted in a bad light, as someone who lost it and committed murder," said Christophersen.
"But he was much more complex than [that]. He was a person that should be acknowledged for his skills of horsemanship and his drawings of 19th century life in the stockyards and cattle stations.
"And his courage in owning up to what he did wrong, because that's what he did. He said, 'I have committed a crime, and I'll pay for it with my own life.'
Christophersen says the exhibition, showing at the South Australian Museum, provides a window into that complexity, and that an appreciation of Flannigan's work goes some way to rectifying the injustice he suffered.
'A Little Bit of Justice' is on display at the South Australian Museum until September 10.
